


there's a storage locker somewhere

by clxude



Series: Ushiten Week [6]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drabble, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Kinda, M/M, depending on how you read it it could just be my love letter to the stars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 17:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7115014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clxude/pseuds/clxude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>There’s a boy somewhere, and his skin burns like stars live underneath it. He does not think any singular action through, and does not look at the big picture, either. There is a single moment before him, a single instant of euphoria, and he is chasing it with wild eyes and an unstoppable hunger.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's a storage locker somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed [Rey](http://kxrasuno.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ushiten week day 6//free day
> 
> Sorry, I meant to put this up earlier, but I just woke up. I was up until 5-ish writing, then woke up at 8 pretty disoriented, burnt three waffles (??? I didn't even know we had waffles???), went back to sleep, and now I'm slightly less out of it. So yeah. I hope you enjoy this

There’s a boy somewhere, and his skin burns like stars live underneath it. He does not think any singular action through, and does not look at the big picture, either. There is a single moment before him, a single instant of euphoria, and he is chasing it with wild eyes and an unstoppable hunger.

There’s a boy out there with cold eyes locked on a target. It’s like a magnet, or a straw maybe, is sucking him up into the air, barely enough to keep his head above the waning tide. Or, perhaps it is a tractor beam, because he did _not_ choose this, and no one else would either, in their right mind. He didn’t choose this, but he’s grown apathetic and uncaring as the moon shifts across his sky and the stars stop to burn in his palms.

There’s a boy out there, and he’s seen constellations and cosmos, but he is still stuck down here on the Earth. He cannot soar; he cannot fly.

...

There’s a boy living on the horizon, flickering between moments.

It’s easier this way, he tells himself as he fades out with the golden sun, easier and simpler and _painless._ But, his skin has long grown numb above the raging fires of dying stars. The feeling might not be real or true, but it’s there, and it’s one of the few things that only he owns.

There is a boy out there, and he does not own these stars or the infinite spaces they inhabit, but their light and strength is his to control. He can make his own choices but not act them out, and for now, that is enough. 

...

There is a boy out there, and his - not _his -_ stars are beginning to burn with a vigor he hasn’t seen since the dawn of the first sunrise. An unfamiliar hand is holding his, tugging him along through hallways he has never known, shouting words he cannot even begin to understand.

There is a boy somewhere, and he stands in a loud room with his hands clamped over his ears because it’s _too loud, where did all this noise come from? How is there this much in the world?_

There is a boy somewhere, and though the stars may burn overhead, miles of water dilute their light and crush him on every side. He never learned to swim, and now he is starting to regret every summer he wasted alone in his room, or in his room with a torn up ball .

There is a boy on the horizon, and he wonders how the fire truck of a boy can bear to live in a world this loud, because he’s drowning in all the noise and light.

...

There is a boy somewhere, and he was born into silence that trailed behind him, intent on the grave plot beside him at the end of time. He carries it around him like a burial shroud, or maybe the crisp white sheet they pull over blank faces in hospitals.

There’s a boy somewhere, and his hands feel like fire.

There’s a boy somewhere, and a fire truck beside him, but the red only fuels the flames, hits them super hot and tall, towering over the trees until this boy replaces the sun. The stars tattooed into the bones and muscles of his hands fade, until only heat remains, blurring all other conscious thought.

...

There’s a boy somewhere, and once upon a time when he was truly young, he learned about where stars come from. He learned of intense pressure and extreme cold, and the heat that emerged afterwards.

There’s a boy somewhere, and he thinks of the fire truck that keeps him lit.

...

There’s a boy somewhere, and the stars have returned, and the noise never left, but an unstoppable flame rest beside him, calm and quiet like the birth of a universe.

...

There’s a boy somewhere, and silence burrows into his bone, through their hard exterior and through blood, all the way to the marrow underneath. A fire truck is beside him, but it is just as broken, and the light is weak and fading.

There’s a boy out there, and he knows the birth of stars just as well as he knows their death. He knows the cycle and how it repeats, but this darkness seems forever, so deep and impenetrable, he doesn’t know what he would do if he were to ever escape it.

...

There is a boy out there, and stars are beginning to form on his palms and the tips of his fingers again.

There is a boy somewhere, and though it feels miles away, he can begin to feel the floor beneath his feet.

There is a boy out there, and it feels like years and decades and _centuries_ have passed, but he opens his eyes, and the boy sitting next to him looks less like a wildfire and more like a sunrise, more like a beginning.

There is a boy somewhere, sitting on the floor of a storage locker. The ground is cold, but a wildfire-turned-boy is more than enough to keep the ice at bay.

There is a boy right here, and he knows the death of stars like he knows Japanese, but he knows their births like he knows the heartbeat of a sunrise.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are always appreciated. Requests are welcome at my [tumblr](http://mother-iwa-chan.tumblr.com/)


End file.
